<\lex  Goodwin's   Teed 

By 
>el   Put 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

AT   LOS  ANGELES 


ROBERT  ERNEST  COWAN 


Goodurin's  iDeed 


MABEL  PUTNAM 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED 


BY 

MABEL   PUTNAM 


SAX  FRANCISCO 

C.   A.   MrRDOCK  &  CO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1893, 

BY 
MABEL  PTTXAM. 


Ts 


ALEX    GOODWIN'S    DEED. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  BISTER  KATE,  what  makes  the  stars  look 

\^_y   at  each  other  ?     Are  they  really   winking, 

or  does  the  light  keep  dancing  on  their  faces  ? 

What  is  it  that  makes  them  look  so  funny  and 

^gay?" 

S?     The  little  curly  head  was  leaning  on  Miss  Al- 
T  den's  knee,  and  the  bright  blue  eyes  were  gazing 
g  upward  at  the  sky,  where  myriads  of  stars  were 
o|  blinking  and  tossing  smiles  and  glances  down  at 
^  little  Alex  Goodwin,  as  he  sat  in  his  bedroom 
g  at  the  Florence  Hospital.     Poor  little  boy!     He 
§  might  sit  all  day  long  by  the  sunny  window  and 
watch  with  beating  heart  and  dancing  eyes  the 
children  in  the  street   below,  playing  ball  and 
climbing  trees,  catching  innocent  butterflies  that 
lighted  on  the  grasses  by  the  pavement,  and  chas- 
ing each  other  in  a  game  of  tag;    but  he  could 
not  join   them  —  no.     For    had   not  that   cruel 
limb  broken  and  let  him  fall  ?     And  had  he  not 


307669 


4  ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

been  carried  by  an  unknown  man  to  this  hos- 
pital, where  he  must  stay  for  weeks  to  come  ? 
Had  not  papa  written  that  his  little  boy  must 
try  and  bear  it  like  a  man, —  and  would  he  not 
do  anything  for  papa  ? 

But  now  the  children  of  the  village  were  all  at 
home,  as  it  was  nearly  bedtime,  and  Alex  had  no 
inclination  to  go  down  to  the  street  and  play, 
but  sat  with  lips  apart  and  wide-open  eyes,  won- 
dering about  the  stars,  and  thinking  he  could 
almost  see  those  funny  little  pygmies  hopping 
about — I  mean  those  little  creatures  Miss  Alden 
had  been  telling  him  were  stationed  in  the  sky 
and  lived  among  the  stars.  He  wondered  if  those 
stars  had  faces  imprinted  on  their  lands;  if  the 
little  lakes  were  eyes,  and  if  the  ranges  of  moun- 
tains were  the  noses.  He  wondered  all  sorts  of 
queer  things,  and  asked  all  sorts  of  funny  ques- 
tions. But  to  Miss  Alden,  who  sat  stroking  his 
pretty  golden  locks,  it  was  a  real  pleasure  to 
answer  all  his  inquiries.  Miss  Alden  was  fond 
of  children  generally,  and  of  this  one  particu- 
larly. And,  in  turn,  Alex  loved  Miss  Alden. 

"You  are  the  lady  that* bound  my  arm  and 
begged  those  children  in  the  hall  to  keep  still,  so 
my  head  would  stop  aching,  aren't  you,  Miss 
Alden  ?  And  didn't  you  pick  some  flowers  for 
me  and  bring  some  nice  broth  for  me  to  drink 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED.  5 

as  soon  as  I  came  to  ? "  asked  Alex,  the  second 
morning  after  his  arrival  at  the  hospital. 

"Yes,"  answered  Miss  Alden,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears,  as  she  thought  of  the  suffering  her 
little  charge  had  endured,  and  how  pitiful  it  was 
to  see  him  lying  on  his  pillow,  with  a  tear-stained 
face  and  disheveled  locks;  but  those  days  were 
past,  and  now  she  must  try  and  brighten  his  stay 
as  best  she  could.  He  was  better  now,  and  con- 
sequently more  restless,  as  the  longing  to  join  in 
the  games  of  the  village  children  possessed  him. 
So  she  told  him  stories,  and  sang  to  him  all  the 
funny  little  songs  she  had  learned  for  the  benefit 
of  the  children  in  the  building.  To-night  she 
had  been  entertaining  him  for  about  an  hour, 
and  now  he  was  contented  to  sit  quiet  and 
thoughtful,  still  watching  the  stars. 

Perhaps  you  will  be  surprised  that  Alex  called 
Miss  Alden  "Sister  Kate,"  but  this  is  the  way  it 
came  about :  Alex  had  lived  in  New  York  all 
his  life-time,  and  had  often  heard  his  mother 
speak  of  the  beautiful  work  being  done  by  the 
Episcopal  Sisterhood.  Those  kind  women  always 
wore  white  caps  and  aprons  while  they  were 
nursing  sick  people,  and  were  always  known  to 
others  as  Sister  Jane,  or  Sister  Mary,  or  Sister — 
well,  whatever  the  name  might  be.  So  when 
Alex  Goodwin  was  carried  to  the  Florence  Hos- 


6  ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

pital,  and  saw  so  many  women  hurrying  about, 
all  wearing  little  white  caps  and  long  white 
aprons,  he  thought  immediately  of  those  Sisters 
in  New  York;  and  he  had  not  been  an  inmate 
of  the  house  three  days,  before  he  asked  Miss 
Alden  to  let  him  call  her  "Sister."  Of  course, 
he  explained  why  he  wished  to  do  so,  and  of 
course  lovely  Miss  Alden  had  to  tell  him  that 
her  name  was  Kate,  even  if  she  did  just  hate 
that  name.  You  know  ladies  generally  dislike 
their  own  names.  So,  after  that,  she  was  always 
"Sister  Kate"  to  Alex. 

On  this  special  evening  the  words  "Sister 
Kate"  had  a  very  pathetic  sound,  at  least  to 
Miss  Alden ;  for  she  was  thinking  of  a  dear  little 
brother  she  once  had,  who  had  always  called 
her  that.  The  little  brother  looked  something 
like  Alex,  and  he  had  died  years  ago.  She  felt 
very  sad  about  it;  for  little  Jamie  had  been  her 
special  favorite,  and  his  death  was  a  terrible 
blow. 

Of  course,  Alex  did  not  know  anything  con- 
cerning Sister  Kate's  brother;  and  for  that  rea- 
son he  often  wondered  at  the  big  tears  starting 
from  his  nurse's  eyes. 

"  Sister  Kate,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  am  so  tired, 
I  should  like  to  go  to  bed.  That  was  a  fine  story 
you  told  about  the  pygmies  in  the  sky;  but  I  am 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED.  7 

so  sleepy  I  can't  listen  to  any  more.   Please  light 
my  lamp  and  read  my  verse." 

So  saying,  he  turned  from  the  window,  and 
waited  for  Miss  Alden  to  prepare  the  room  for 
the  night.  It  was  not  long  before  Sister  Kate 
tucked  Alex  in  his  little  bed,  and  left  him  to 
wander  alone  in  the  Land  of  Nod. 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED. 


CHAPTER   II. 

AS  most  of  us  like  to  know  "how  people 
look,"  when  we  read  a  story,  I  will  try  to 
tell  you  more  about  Alex  and  his  father. 

Mr.  Goodwin  was  a  handsome  young  man, 
with  dark  brown  eyes  and*  curly  black  hair. 
Having  a  straight,  athletic  figure,  and  being  tall, 
he  was  always  noticed  by  everybody;  and,  what 
was  better  than  all  this,  he  had  one  of  the  kind- 
est hearts  in  the  world,  and  a  smile  that  seemed 
to  make  you  feel  perfectly  happy  when  in  his 
company.  He  was  very  fond  of  children,  and 
always  had  some  merry  tale  to  relate.  In  conse- 
quence, all  the  little  folks  were  his  friends,  and 
those  whom  Alex  knew  always  received  a  pleas- 
ant welcome  at  the  Goodwins'  home  in  New  York 
city. 

Alex,  as  I  have  said,  had  great  blue  eyes  and 
light  curly  hair;  he  was  a  very  nice-looking  boy 
and  had  inherited  his  mothers-sympathetic  dis- 
position and  his  father's  love  for  fun.  Alex  had 
always  been  very  happy  in  his  home  until  six 
months  before,  when  his  beautiful  mother  had 
died  and  left  the  poor  little  boy  to  the  care  of  an 
ancient  aunt,  who  came  to  New  York  especially 


ALEX    GOODWIN'S    DEED.  9 

for  the  purpose  of  caring  for  her  nephew's  home 
on  Fifth  Avenue.  After  his  mothers  death,  Alex 
could  not  feel  as  happy  and  contented  as  he  had 
been  before;  for  there  was  no  kind  mother  to  go 
to  when  he  was  in  trouble,  no  one  to  read  him 
lovely  stories  in  the  evening  after  dinner,  and  no 
one  to  ride  with  in  the  Park.  He  did  not  much 
care  for  his  Aunt  Hilda,  who  was  in  truth  his 
father's  aunt — an  old  lady  with  snowy  hair  and  a 
kindly  disposition,  but  unsuited  to  care  for  chil- 
dren. However,  she  was  in  the  house,  and  there 
was  no  getting  away  from  her,  unless  he  should 
go  on  a  visit  to  his  grandmother,  whom  he  loved 
very  dearly. 

One  evening  as  Alex  and  his  father  sat  by  the 
open  fireplace  talking  of  the  happenings  of  the 
day  (Aunt  Hilda  had  gone  to  her  room,  so  they 
were  alone),  Mr.  Goodwin  turned  suddenly  and 
lifted  Alex  to  his  knee. 

"Papa  has  something  to  ask  his  little  boy," 
said  he.  Alex  put  one  hand  on  his  father's 
shoulder,  and  with  the  other  stroked  the  curly 
ends  of  the  dark  brown  hair.  Mr.  Goodwin  seemed 
not  to  mind  this  at  all  and  smiled  at  his  little 
son,  asking  what  the  boy  would  like  most  to  do. 

"  Well,  papa,  I've  tried  and  tried  to  like  Aunt 
Hilda,  but  she's  so  old  and  kind  of  poky,  I  just 
can't,  that's  all.  I  do  wish  you  were  home  in 


10  ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

the  day-time,  so  that  everything  would  be  pleas- 
ant and  nice,  and  we  could  ride  in  the  Park 
together.  That's  what  I  would  like  most." 

"  Well,  son,  I  wish  I  could.  It  makes  me  feel 
sad  to  see  you  so  lonesome.  But  how  could  the 
bank  get  on  without  papa?  And  how  could  my 
little  boy  have  a  pony  to  ride,  and  plenty  of  nice 
books  to  read,  if  papa  did  not  earn  the  money  ? 
Now,  A  Hie  boy,  how  would  you  like  to  make  a 
nice  visit  to  grandma,  out  West  ?  " 

"  But  you  couldn't  go,  could  you,  papa?  " 

"No  dear,  I  couldn't  go  to  stay;  but  I  would 
take  you  there  and  go  for  you  again  in  a  couple 
of  months.  You  know  grandma  is  so  fond  of  you, 
and  has  written  so  often  to  me  lately,  asking  for 
you  to  come." 

Alex  began  to  look  very  thoughtful,  and  finally 
said:  "Could  I  take  Jackson  B,  papa?"  (Jack- 
son B  was  his  pony's  name.) 

"Why,  my  dear,  grandma  has  a  nice  little 
saddle-horse  for  Harry  to  ride,  and  you  could  use 
him  always." 

"  Well  then,  I  think  I  shall  have  a  good  time. 
Yes,  I  will  go;  but  what  about  my  school?" 

Here  Mr.  Goodwin  looked  rather  troubled,  for, 
truth  to  tell,  he  feared  that  a  few  months'  vaca- 
tion might  prove  quite  a  setback  to  Alex,  and  he 
had  been  hopeful  that  Alex  would  finish  the 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED.  11 

term  without  interruption.  However,  he  stroked 
the  boy's  sunny  curls,  and  answered  : 

"Well,  I  think  that  if  my  boy  had  such  a 
good,  jolly  vacation,  he  would  grow  so  much 
stronger  that  he  would  be  willing  to  come  back 
for  the  fall  term,  and  work  harder  than  ever  with 
his  books.  Eh,  Alex?" 

Mr.  Goodwin,  however,  had  no  intention  of 
working  the  boy  too  hard;  for  he  had  been  not  a 
little  worried  about  Alex,  ever  since  his  mother's 
death.  He  had  noticed  how  downhearted  the 
child  seemed  to  be,  and  also  that  he  had  lost  his 
appetite. 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Alex  should  go  West 
to  visit  the  dear  old  grandmother  in  her  home  at 
Maplewood,  a  pretty  town  between  two  sloping 
hills.  Its  walks  and  gardens  were  strewn  with 
lovely  shade-trees,  making  as  pretty  a  sight  as 
one  could  wish  in  early  spring,  just  as  the  leaves 
were  coming  out.  And  what  was  most  thought  of 
by  the  young  people — a  charming  stream  where 
trout  would  soon  be  plentiful.  Accordingly, 
Alex  left  his  New  York  home,  and  one  sunny 
spring  day  saw  him  and  his  father  aboard  the 
west-bound  train.  They  were  given  an  enthusi- 
astic welcome  by  Grandma  Goodwin,  who  was 
extremely  fond  of  her  handsome  son,  and  just 
as  fond  of  his  little  boy. 


12  ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

Mr.  Goodwin  remained  a  day  or  two  in  Maple- 
wood,  and  then  felt  compelled  to  return  to  busi- 
ness. So  Alex  was  left  to  enjoy  himself  as  best 
he  could  in  the  quiet  little  town.  And  indeed 
he  soon  became  acquainted  with  the  children  of 
the  place,  and  made  himself  as  much  at  home  as 
any  of  them.  Such  fine  morning  rides  as  he 
had  on  old  Charley  the  horse,  taking  him  out 
often  as  early  as  half-past  five,  and  not  return- 
ing until  breakfast-time. 

Grandma  Goodwin  had  taken  a  little  boy  to 
live  with  her  and  run  errands.  His  mother  and 
father  had  both  died  when  he  was  a  baby,  and 
since  then  he  had  been  tossed  about  from  post 
to  pillar,  until  Mrs.  Goodwin  had  sent  for  him. 
He  was  very  happy  now  and  went  to  school 
every  day.  Upon  being  dismissed  from  school, 
he  would  go  directly  home,  and  if  there  were  any 
chores  to  be  done,  away  he  would  fly  to  perform 
his  duties.  Then  he  would  harness  old  Charley 
and  ride  to  the  postoffice,  the  news-stand,  and  any 
other  place  "  grandma  "  might  send  him.  Harry 
was  a  very  systematic  little  fellow;  and  because 
he  was  so  quick  about  everything,  he  always  had 
plenty  of  time  for  play.  So  you  may  imagine 
that  when  Alex  came,  grandma's  house  was  the 
scene  of  many  a  jollification. 

"  Well,  I  declare  I  never  did  see  such  a  jolly 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED.  13 

old  lady ! "  Harry  used  to  tell  Alex,  as  the  boys 
would  be  unharnessing  Charley  and  giving  him 
his  supper.  At  this  remark,  Alex  would  give 
Charley  an  emphatic  slap,  and  say,  "You  bet!" 
in  such  a  hearty  manner  as  to  show  that  he 
thought  not  many  boys  had  such  a  fine  grand- 
mother. 

Many  a  time  during  the  summer,  a  party  of 
four  or  five  boys  strolled  into  grandma's  little 
garden,  each  with  a  string  of  fish  caught  up  the 
stream.  As  soon  as  she  heard  their  voices,  up 
would  go  the  little  sitting-room  window,  and 
every  cap  would  be  raised,  as  the  smiling  face  of 
grandma  greeted  them,  and  the  pleasant  voice 
said,  "Come  in,  boys.  We  are  going  to  have  a 
good  supper  to-night,  and  I  wish  you  to  come  in 
and  make  me  happy."  Then  the  window  would 
be  closed  and  grandma  would  bustle  about, 
saying  to  herself,  "Six;  well,  I  think  we  can 
manage  it,  if  the  table  is  small.  Jim  can  sit 
here,  and  Carl  here,  and — " 

"  Sure,  ma'am,  and  is  them  boys  acomin'  to 
eat  up  me  vittles?"  would  be  heard  from  the 
slide  in  the  pantry,  and  there  would  be  poor  old 
Bridget,  arms  akimbo,  waiting  to  hear  the  latest 
from  Mrs.  Goodwin. 

"Yes,  Bridget;  arrange  places  for  six,  and  bring 
up  some  of  the  jelly  from  the  cellar.  Give  us 


14  ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

plenty  of  strawberries  and  cream,  and  make 
some  chocolate  for  us  instead  of  tea;  and  don't 
forget  the  finger-bowls."  For  if  there  were  one 
thing  on  earth  which  Grandma  Goodwin  doted 
on,  it  was  her  one  dozen  cut-glass  finger-bowls, 
with  a  set  of  doilies,  which  young  Mrs.  Goodwin 
had  sent  her  four  Christmases  ago.  "And  boys 
do  need  finger-bowls,  goodness  knows,"  she  would 
say,  by  way  of  excuse  for  placing  her  very  best 
before  a  set  of  fly-away  boys. 

So  time  passed  on,  till  one  day  as  Alex  was 
climbing  a  cherry-tree  in  Frank  Bayne's  orchard, 
he  fell  and  broke  his  arm.  The  fall  stunned  him 
so  that  he  knew  nothing  more  until  he  opened 
his  eyes  and  found  himself  on  a  little  cot  in  the 
Florence  Hospital.  This  was  a  very  pretty,  quiet 
place,  just  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and  as 
Frank  Bayne's  orchard  was  only  across  the  lane, 
this  was  certainly  the  nearest  place  Alex  could 
be  taken. 

The  Florence  Hospital  was  supported  by  a 
charitable  company  of  ladies,  one  of  whom  had 
erected  the  building  and  named  it  Florence,  in 
memory  of  her  daughter,  who  had  died  in  a  hos- 
pital away  from  home. 

As  you  may  imagine,  Grandma  Goodwin  was 
overwhelmed  with  anxiety  when  told  the  news  of 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED.  15 

the  accident,  and  hastened  towards  the  hospital, 
her  first  impulse  being  to  take  the  child  home 
immediately;  but  when  she  was  taken  to  his  room 
and  found  him  so  well  situated  and  receiving  every 
attention  from  doctors  and  nurses,  and  found 
also  that  he  had  been  placed  in  one  of  the  pret- 
tiest single  rooms  of  the  building,  she  concluded 
it  would  be  better  to  leave  him  in  care  of  the 
hospital  people.  The  doctor  said  it  would  be  too 
much  for  him  to  be  taken  away  from  there  just 
then.  He  was  unconscious  when  grandma  ar- 
rived, and  she  was  terribly  frightened;  but  the 
doctors  comforted  her  as  much  as  possible,  and 
assured  her  that  the  boy  Avould  improve  as  soon 
as  he  became  conscious.  She  waited  until  Alex 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about  him,  and  then 
felt  assured  that  he  would  soon  be  better. 


* 


16  ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED. 


CHAPTER    III. 

7-r\E  will  not  follow  Alex  through  all  his 
\i/  weeks  of  sickness.  Of  course,  Grandma 
Goodwin  wrote  immediately  to  New  York,  but 
did  not  telegraph,  fearing  to  aiarm  her  son;  and 
as  Alex  was  comfortably  settled  in  his  little  room, 
she  did  not  think  it  best  that  his  father  should 
come  and  take  him  away.  So  Mr.  Goodwia  re- 
mained in  New  York,  very  much  disturbed  though 
hopeful  for  Alex.  The  little  boy  progressed  nice- 
ly, and  was  soon  able  to  be  out  on  the  veranda, 
with  the  poor  arm  in  a  sling.  He  was  beginning 
to  think  of  fun  and  horseback  rides  again,  when 
one  day  a  sickening  feeling  crept  over  him,  and 
he  refused  to  eat.  This  caused  some  alarm  in  the 
hospital,  as  a  dangerous  fever  was  prevalent  in 
the  town,  and  the  managers  of  the  hospital  never 
allowed  persons  suffering  from  contagious  dis- 
eases to  enter  the  building.  But  Alex  was  already 
there,  and  he  could  not  be  sent  away.  The  next 
morning  the  doctors  visited  him  early,  and  dis- 
covered to  their  alarm  that  he  had  in  some  way 
contracted  the  fever,  and  was  in  a  fair  way  to  be 
a  very  sick  little  boy.  He  was  at  once  removed 
to  a  large  room  in  one  end  of  the  building,  away 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED.  17 

from  the  other  patients,  and  given  every  care. 
Grandma  Goodwin  was  immediately  summoned, 
and  the  case  explained.  Now,  indeed,  was  the 
poor  woman  truly  alarmed. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  she,  "  why  didn't  I  write  for 
his  father  to  come  anyway?  What  shall  I  do?  I 
know  he  will  die,  with  a  broken  arm  and  the 
fever,  too ! "  And  the  dear  old  lady  actually 
sobbed  in  her  grief. 

Mr.  Goodwin  was  immediately  telegraphed, 
but  alas!  when  the  message  reached  New  York, 
he  was  traveling,  nobody  knew  where,  in  Europe, 
on  a  hurried  trip  to  St.  Petersburg.  Just  two 
days  previous,  his  firm  had  received  a  cablegram 
announcing  his  arrival  in  Liverpool;  and  when 
he  had  left  that  place,  or  which  way  he  would 
go,  they  did  not  know;  so  the  best  thing  to  do 
was  to  send  a  message  to  St.  Petersburg  direct, 
and  let  it  await  his  arrival  there. 

Before  many  days  had  passed,  Grandma  Good- 
win received  word  from  St.  Petersburg  that  her 
son  would  soon  be  upon  his  way  to  New  York, 
and  would  then  hasten  westward.  In  truth,  Mr. 
Goodwin  was  completely  beside  himself  when  he 
received  the  telegram,  but  thought  Alex  must  be 
alive,  else  they  would  have  sent  another  message. 
However,  he  determined  to  leave  the  following 
evening  on  the  train  for  Berlin. 


18  ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

Another  week  saw  Mr.  Goodwin  on  the  deep 
Atlantic,  and  soon  he  was  in  New  York.  Then, 
taking  the  earliest  train  for  Chicago,  he  tried  to 
satisfy  himself  that  everything  would  turn  out 
right,  as  it  generally  did  for  him,  in  his  busy, 
whirling,  business  life. 

One  evening  Grandma  Goodwin  was  sitting 
under  the  light  of  a  pretty  student  lamp,  trying 
very  hard  to  interest  herself  in  a  book  of  sonnets; 
but  somehow  she  couldn't  help  thinking  of  Alex 
and  wondering  how  soon  her  dear  son  would 
come  to  them  from  New  York.  To  be  sure,  Alex 
was  progressing  finely  now,  but  he  was  very 
anxious  to  see  his  kind  and  indulgent  father. 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  front  door,  and  Bridget 
soon  came  and  threw  the  sitting-room  door  open, 
announcing,  aA  gentleman  to  see  ye,  mum." 
And  on  the  threshold  stood  Mr.  Goodwin.  Of 
course  grandma  was  overjoyed,  and  of  course 
they  sat  up  till  nearly  morning,  talking  about 
what  had  happened,  what  they  intended  doing, 
and  so  on. 

The  next  morning  they  both  went  to  the  hos- 
pital, as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  and  the  first 
person  they  met  as  they  neared  the  building  was 
Sister  Kate.  She  was  picking  a  few  flowers  for 
Alex,  she  said,  and  was  perfectly  delighted  to 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED.  19 

know  that  at  last  Alex  would  be  happy,  because 
his  father  had  come.  Sister  Kate  had  to  tell 
Alex  that  a  very  dear  friend  wished  to  see  him; 
and,  of  course,  Alex  guessed  "Papa,"  and  was 
wild  with  delight  when  Mr.  Goodwin  entered  the 
room. 

Well,  they  talked  and  talked,  until  the  nurse 
saw  that  Alex  was  growing  excited;  and  just 
then  the  doctor  put  his  head  in  the  door  and 
said, 

"It  is  too  bad;  but  I  am  afraid  to  let  you  peo- 
ple talk  any  more.  This  little  boy  is  too  happy 
to  rest  well.  Eh,  Alex?"  And  he  turned  to  the 
child,  who  said,  imploringly, 

"Oh,  please  let  him  stay.  He  is  telling  me 
all  about  my  pony,  Jackson  B,  and  also  about  all 
the  people  I  know  in  the  East." 

But  Dr.  Hamilton  stood  firm,  and  raised  his 
eyebrows  at  Mr.  Goodwin,  who  rose  immediately 
and  kissed  his  son  good-bye,  promising  to  return 
again  before  supper-time. 


20  ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

AY,  what's  yer  name?"  Alex  was  on  the 
veranda  for  an  airing,  and  upon  hearing 
the  voice,  turned  in  the  direction  whence  it  came; 
but  he  could  see  no  one. 

"  Say!  Hello,  Bub!  How  old  are  you  ?  "  Again 
that  same  voice  called  him,  and  he  looked  for 
some  one.  At  last  a  little  bunch  of  leaves  seemed 
moving  wildly  about  over  near  the  lattice,  and 
Alex  looked  harder  at  it  than  before;  then  said, 

"Is  anybody  there?" 

"Yep;  I'm  here.  Can't  yer  see  me?  I'm  hid 
behind  these  vines.  Can't  yer  see  this  here  twig 
wigglin'  at  yer?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see  now.  You  are  standing  on  the 
ground,  aren't  you? 

"Yep.  Jes'  come  out  to  play  hoss  an'  have  a 
run.  This  is  my  switch — see?  I  stuck  it  through 
the  lattice,  an'  thought  mebbe  you'd  look  around. 
Say,  what  makes  yer  sit  there  in  that  big  chair? 
Yer  sick?  Come  ahead  down  an'  have  some  fun." 

Then  the  figure  moved  away  from  the  lattice, 
and  Alex  could  see  him  through  the  vines  walk- 
ing slowly  to  the  front  steps  of  the  veranda, 
where  he  stopped  again,  and  looked  up  at  Alex. 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED.  21 

"  Say,  I'll  bet  yer  ain't  bin  no  sicker'n  I  was." 

"Why,  how  sick  were  you?  "  said  Alex.  "  Did 
you  have  your  arm  broken  and  then  have  a 
fever?  " 

"  Nup.  But  I  had  er  terrible  lip  on  me — er  hair 
lip;  gut  it  now — see?  An'  then  I  mashed  them 
fingers — them  three,  right  there.  An'  I  tell  yer, 
kid,  it  hurt." 

"Yes,  it  must  have  been  dreadful.  Come  up 
here  and  tell  me  about  it,"  said  Alex. 

"  You  know  my  name?  No,  I  bet  yer  don't. 
My  name  is  Johnny  Wells  —  Johnny  Wells. 
i,  that's  my  name.  What's  yourn?  " 

"  My  name  is  Alexander  Hammond  Goodwin." 

"  Whew,  what  a  buster  !  Say,  what  yer  have 
such  a  name  as  that  for?  Now,  does  every  fellow 
what  knows  you  say,  'Hello,  Alexander  What- 
yer-may-callum!' ?  Nup,  I  bet  they  don't." 
And  he  emphasized  his  remark  with  a  decided 
whack  of  his  little  willow  switch  down  on  the 
veranda  floor. 

"No,"  laughed  the  other;  "they  call  me  Alex 
for  short.  My  father  likes  that  better." 

"  Oh,  you  got  a  dad?  Say,  it  must  be  great  fun 
to  have  a  dad.  Say,  I  bet  yer  I've  worked  more 
than  you  have.  What'll  you  bet?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can't  bet,  because  I  don't  know  what 
you  ever  did.  I  never  work  except  at  my  studies; 


22  ALEX   GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

only  sometimes  I  unsaddle  Jackson  B,  when  the 

stableman  is  very  busy." 

"  Jackson  B?   Who's  that— a  horse?  "    And  the 

little  fellow's  mouth  opened  as  wide  as  his  eyes. 
"Yes;  Jackson  B  is  my  pony,  and — " 
Oh,  you  got  a  pony?     I  bet  yer  can't  ride  no 

better'n  I  can.     I  rode  a  circus  horse  once  when 

they  was  in  Chicago,  and  the  man  said  I  rode 

great.     I  bet  yer  that  there  horse  was  bigger'n 

your  pony." 

"  Why,  have  you  been  to  Chicago?" 

"  Ben  to  Chicago !      What  yer  take  me  for? 

Reg'lar  sissy?     Er  course   I've  ben  to  Chicago. 

My  biz  is  in  Chicago." 

"  Your  business !   What  business  do  you  have  ?  " 
"  I  got  a  shoe-black  place  on  a  corner.     Me 

and   my  chum  makes  mun  great.     I  bet  yer  I 

can  black  boots  better  than  you  can — I  bet  yer! 

Say,  when  you  black  boots  do  you  take  one  brush 

at  a  time  like  this  yere?     Kinder  slow  like — see? 

Pooh!   we  fellers  takes  them  so-fashion — go  like 

lightnin'— see?" 

"  I  never  black  my  shoes — anyway,  only  once 

in  a  while." 

"Say,  I  bet  yer  I'm  older  than  you.     What'll 

yer  bet?     I  bet  yer  eight  years  old.     How  old  '11 

yer  bet  I  am?     Well,  sir,  I'm  eleven,  I  am.     My 

chum  he's  seventeen;  so  he  does  the  biz  all  alone 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED.  23 

now.  I  help  like  anything  when  I'm  there.  I 
bet  yer  I  do  as  much  work  as  him.  He  says  I'm 
a  dandy  shiner." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  ever  got  here,  if  you  live 
in  Chicago.'1 

"  Oh,  I  was  sick,  and  a  man  I  uster  shine  for 
he  told  me  to  come  along  home  with  him  one 
night,  'cause  his  wife  wanted  to  see  me.  I  didn't 
know  what  in  thunder  his  wife  wanted  er  me, 
but  I  went;  and  she  says  to  me,  '  Well,  yer  sick, 
ain't  yer?'  And  I  says,  'Yes,  I've  been  sick  for 
a  week.  My  lip  hurts  me  sometimes,  too,  but 
'tain't  no  good  acryin'  about  it.  I  ain't  no  sissy.' 
'  Well,'  says  she,  '  yer  must  come  with  me  to  the 
country  way  off' — and  then  she  told  me  all  about 
this  yere  place.  Well,  at  last  I  give  in,  and  here 
I  am."  With  this  the  child  arose,  stretched  him- 
self out  like  a  young  animal,  pushed  his  little 
torn  cap  back,  scratched  his  head  a  little,  looked 
thoughtful  for  a  moment,  and  then  leaning  against 
a  pillar  of  the  awning,  he  slapped  his  thigh,  and 
said : 

u  Well,  kid,  I  tell  yer  what,  this  yere  is  a 
pretty  dandy  place  when  a  feller  is  sick;  but 
when  he's  well  he  doesn't  want  to  stay  in  it  long. 
See?  I'm  goin'  back  to  Chicago  next  week." 

Alex  was  growing  so  much  stronger  now  that 
he  could  take  little  walks  every  day;  so  that 


24  ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

afternoon  when  his  father  called  they  went  for  a 
little  stroll  across  the  green  lawns,  and  under  the 
shade-trees  that  made  such  pretty  arbors  with 
their  graceful  branches. 

"Papa,  do  you  know  what  I'd  rather  do  than 
anything  else  in  the  world?  I'd  like  to  build  a 
great  big  house  for  sick  children — a  regular  hos- 
pital, only  nice  and  pleasant,  with  some  of  those 
nice  lady  nurses  to  take  care  of  the  poor  children. 
Papa,  I  used  to  be  terribly  afraid  of  a  hospital, 
but  now  I'm  not  a  bit  scared.  Why,  it  is  just 
as  nice  as  home  when  you  are  sick,  if  you  have 
such  a  nice  lady  as  Sister  Kate  to  take  care  of 
you.  Really,  papa,  I  just  like  Sister  Kate  aw- 
fully much.  Papa,  wouldn't  she  make  a  fine  head 
nurse  for  a  children's  hospital?"  And  Alex 
skipped  merrily  on,  one  hand  locked  in  his  fath- 
er's, and  the  other  catching  at  leaves  and  flowers, 
twigs  and  butterflies  as  he  went  along. 

Mr.  Goodwin  seemed  in  a  gay  mood  also,  and 
he  whistled  "Sweet  Peggy"  with  as  much  ani- 
mation as  a  boy.  He  and  Alex  chatted  and 
laughed,  talking  over  their  plans  for  the  future, 
and  enjoying  each  other's  company  more  than 
either  could  express.  After  a  while,  Alex  said, 

"  Now,  papa,  I  am  so  much  better,  the  doctor 
lets  me  eat  nice,  big  meals.  You  see,  I  am  go- 
ing away  so  soon,  there's  something  I  should 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED.  25 

like  to  do  very  much.  I  should  like — "  then  a 
pause. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin,  "what  would  you 
like?" 

"Well,  maybe  you  won't  like  it;  but  I  should 
like  to  give  a  good-bye  dinner  to  my  friends 
here." 

Mr.  Goodwin  laughed. 

"You  don't  know  what  I  mean,  papa,"  said 
Alex,  looking  injured.  "  I  mean  a  dinner  for  all 
the  children  here.  They  have  been  so  kind  to 
me.  You  see,  Tom  has  been  awfully  good,  and 
loaned  me  all  of  his  books  for  Sister  Kate  to 
read  to  me.  And  that  little  girl  with  red  hair — 
she's  terribly  homely,  and  she's  got  an  awful 
name — Maggie  O'Toole;  but  really,  papa,  she's 
gone  down  that  lane  every  day  on  her  crutches, 
and  picked  some  of  those  wild  flowers  for  my 
room.  Then  there's  Johnny  Wells — he's  a  funny 
fellow." 

"  Yes?  What  color  is  his  hair?  "  said  Mr.  Good- 
win, evidently  amused. 

"Oh,  his  hair's  kind  of  common-looking — 
brownish.  But  he  talks  so  funny!  He  must  be 
poor.  Oh,  how  dreadful  it  must  be  to  feel  poor! 
Just  think!  He  blacks  boots  in  Chicago,  and  he 
calls  that  his  'biz.'  Isn't  that  funny?  Oh,  papa, 
what  makes  you  look  that  way?  Papa,  don't 


26  ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

cry!  What's  the  matter,  papa?  Don't  you  want 
me  to  talk  about  Johnny?  " 

"Yes,  my  son,  talk  about  Johnny  all  you 
please.  I'm  not  sick, — not  crying,  either,  only 
this  confounded  sun  shines  in  my  eyes  so,  it 
makes  them  hurt,  and  look  kind  of  wet,  I 
suppose."  And  as  he  said  this,  Mr.  Goodwin 
gave  his  hat  a  decided  jerk  down  over  his  eyes, 
and,  when  Alex  was  not  looking,  brushed  a  tear 
or  two  away. 

By  this  time,  they  had  nearly  reached  the  hos- 
pital, on  their  return.  Mr.  Goodwin  accompanied 
Alex  to  his  room,  and  remained  there,  telling 
him  stories,  and  showing  him  little  pocket-maps 
he  had  brought  home  from  Europe.  Finally, 
the  bell  for  supper  rang,  and  Mr.  Goodwin  rose; 
then,  pressing  one  fond  kiss  on  Alex's  rosy  lips, 
took  his  departure  for  grandma's  cosy  little  home. 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S  DEED.  27 


CHAPTER   V. 

Tyi  R.  GOODWIN  walked  slowly  down  the 
./  JL  shady  path,  stopping  only  to  pluck  a  sweet 
white  rose-bud  for  his  buttonhole;  then,  emerging 
into  the  sunlight,  pulled  his  hat  further  down 
over  his  eyes,  quickened  his  pace,  and  in  a  short 
time  arrived  at  the  vine-clad  house  of  his  mother. 

"Well?"  said  Grandma  Goodwin,  looking  at 
him  over  her  spectacles,  as  she  gave  a  final  pull 
at  the  needle  that  wouldn't  come  through  the 
cloth. 

u  Well,  the  little  boy  is  in  high  spirits,  and 
took  a  long  walk  with  me.  He  is  possessed  with 
the  idea  of  giving  a  farewell  dinner  to  his 
'friends,'  as  he  calls  them, — the  little  children 
who  have  treated  him  so  kindly." 

"Well,  did  you  ever  see  such  a  child?  And 
how  can  he  give  a  dinner  to  his  friends  in  such 
a  place  as  the  hospital?  Bless  his  heart!  Are 
you  going  to  let  him  do  it?  Why,  it  will  make 
them  all  sick,  won't  it?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  think  not.  You  see,  he  might  give 
them  a  nice  little  treat  in  his  room,  and  not  have 
anything  rich,  either.  The  fact  is,  I  never  thought 
of  such  a  thing,  till  he  put  it  into  my  head;  but 


28  ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

on  the  way  home,  just  now,  I  have  been  thinking 
it  over,  and  don't  see  why  it  should  not  be  a  feasi- 
ble plan.  At  any  rate,  I  intend  to  ask  Dr.  Ham- 
ilton about  it,  and  if  he  gives  his  consent,  we 
can  easily  arrange  for  a  little  supper.  I  declare, 
it  makes  my  heart  ache  when  I  see  those  poor  lit- 
tle charity  patients  there,  being  treated  for  lame- 
ness, deafness,  or  some  other  terrible  affliction.  I 
can't  help  wondering  what  sort  of  homes  they 
are  going  back  to,  as  soon  as  they  are  cured.  Just 
think,  mother,  how  horrible  if  Alex  were  one  of 
them! " 

"  And  for  that  reason,  John  dear,  we  ought  to 
be  especially  thankful  that  his  father  has  enough 
of  this  world's  goods  to  make  him  happy,  and 
keep  him  in  a  lovely  home." 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED.  29 


CHAPTER   VI. 


it's  my  turn.  Let  me  peek  this  time. 
Come  on."  Then,  in  a  suppressed  tone, 
came  the  words,  "  Oh,  say!  I  bet  yer  that  there 
stuff  at  this  end  the  table  is  jelly,  I  bet  yer!  Yes, 
sir;  and  it's  kinder  reddish.  O-o!  yer  see  them 
flowers  all  roun'?  And  them  pretty  dishes?  Say, 
it's  great,  ain't  it?  Come  on,  Mag;  it's  your  turn 
now.  Jes'  look  right  through  this  way  —  "  and 
Johnny  once  more  squinted  his  left  eye,  and, 
with  hands  on  his  knees,  bent  down  to  show  Mag- 
gie how  to  look  through  the  key-hole. 

They  were  very  happy,  these  poor  little  folks, 
to  be  invited  to  a  dinner  party,  given  by  "that 
rich  kid,  Alex."  For,  of  course,  Mr.  Goodwin 
agreed  to  let  Alex  have  his  way,  and  after  con- 
siderable argument,  the  old  physician  at  the 
Florence  consented  to  have  a  plain  dinner  given 
to  those  children  whose  stomachs  were  able  to  di- 
gest "  an  ox,"  as  he  somewhat  eloquently  stated. 

Now,  dinner  parties  were  unheard-of  things  at 
hospitals,  and  the  old  doctor  solemnly  declared 
there  should  never  be  another  one  —  never!  But 
he  looked  in  at  the  dining-room  every  time  he 
passed  through  the  hall,  and  as  soon  as  his  back 


30  ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

was  turned  the  nurses  would  look  queer  looks  at 
each  other  and  go  on  arranging  the  viands  in  the 
most  tempting  style. 

At  last  five  o'clock  arrived,  and  the  door  of 
Alex's  bedroom  was  opened,  while  Mr.  Goodwin 
and  his  son  stepped  out  to  walk  down  the  hall 
and  meet  their  guests  in  the  sitting-room.  But, 
bless  your  soul,  they  hardly  stepped  into  the  hall, 
when  they  encountered  three  of  their  "guests" 
awaiting  them,  the  foremost  one  being  Johnny 
Wells,  who,  with  eyes  ablaze  with  anticipation, 
and  a  rosy,  upturned  face,  inquired,  "  Is  it  time, 
kid?  I  thought  it  was,  buccuz  we  ben  er  waitin' 
nearly  ha'f  er  nour.  Say,  am  I  goin'  ter  sit  near 
you?" 

Alex  laughed  outright  and  answered,  "  Why, 
yes;  I  guess  so,  if  you  want  to." 

"Well,  I  do,  kid;  'cause  I  know  you'll  gimme 
all  I  want  to  eat.  I'm  awful  hungry,  after  smell- 
in'  them  good  things." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  dining-room 
door,  where  they  were  met  by  Sister  Kate,  who 
pushed  open  the  swinging-door  to  let  them  pass. 
One  of  the  other  nurses  was  hurrying  down  the 
hall,  wheeling  before  her  a  chair  in  which  sat  a 
bright-eyed,  black-haired  little  girl  of  only  nine 
summers.  In  her  lap  was  a  copy  of  "  Robinson 
Crusoe," — and  she  held  the  volume  tenderly,  for  it 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED.  31 

seemed  to  remind  her  of  her  own  crude  life  spent 
on  one  of  the  Pacific  Islands. 

Then  came  the  sound  of  crutches — and  a  small 
boy,  with  small  eyes  and  very  high  cheek-bones, 
entered,  and  stood  in  silent  wonderment,  gazing 
at  the  beautiful  table  of  good  things. 

"Aha! "  laughed  Mr.  Goodwin,  taking  his  place 
at  the  head  of  the  table,  "It  seems  to  me,  Dr. 
Hamilton,  that  Miss  Alden  is  going  to  be  kept 
pretty  lively  for  about  an  hour,  with  all  these  lit- 
tle folks  to  see  to." 

The  old  doctor  rubbed  his  hands  together  and 
tried  to  scowl  over  his  spectacles,  but  succeeded 
only  in  puckering  his  lips  into  a  smile,  for  the 
scent  of  the  turkey,  jellies  and  cream,  together 
with  many  other  good  things,  made  the  old  man's 
heart  as  glad  as  if  he  had  been  a  boy. 

Everybody  was  happy,  and  everybody  ate  as  if 
he  enjoyed  it.  Johnny  was  in  his  element,  with 
Alex  on  one  side  and  Maggie  on  the  other,  and 
dear,  good  Sister  Kate  running  about  trying  to 
keep  all  the  plates  full  and  the  little  mouths  busy. 

Maggie  was  very  happy  over  her  bouquet  'of 
dainty  forget-me-nots,  while  Johnny  cared  not 
for  his  flowers,  but  gave  them  a  glance  or  two, 
and  then  went  on  eating  his  turkey  as  if  his  life 
depended  on  it.  Every  one  enjoyed  a  good  laugh 
at  him;  for  he  managed,  between  bites  and  chews, 


32  ALEX   GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

to  say  some  funny  thing,  and  every  now  and  then 
he  would  burst  out  with,  "  Oh!  don't  I  wish  Nick 
was  here.  Poor  old  Nick !" 

The  little  girl  from  the  Islands  was  very  shy, 
asking  for  what  she  wished  in  a  quiet  manner 
that  touched  Mr.  Goodwin's  heart.  In  fact,  Mr. 
Goodwin  did  a  great  deal  of  quiet  thinking  that 
day,  and  struggled,  once  or  twice,  to  keep  back  a 
tear  that  just  would  push  itself  out. 

At  last  the  dinner  was  over;  and  for  once  in  his 
life  Johnny  sat  back  in  his  chair,  perfectly  con- 
tented, viewing  the  remains  of  the  feast,  and  re- 
marking in  a  serious  manner  to  the  assembled 
company,  "  Jimminy!  I  hope  I  don't  bust!  " 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED.  33 


CHAPTER   VII. 

GRANDMA  GOODWIN  felt  really  grieved 
that  she  was  to  lose  Alex  so  soon;  but  Mr. 
Goodwin  thought  it  best  to  take  his  little  son 
back  to  New  York.  So,  on  a  bright,  sunny  morn- 
ing, early  in  September,  they  all  assembled  at  the 
station,  Mr.  Goodwin  and  Alex  to  board  the  train, 
grandma  and  Harry  to  say  farewell.  They  were 
hardly  seated  in  the  waiting-room,  when  the 
sound  of  hurried  footsteps  reached  their  ears,  and 
who  should  enter  the  doorway  but  Johnny  Wells. 

"Say,  I  didn't  want  yer  to  think  yer  wuz  for- 
got by  nobuddy,  kid;  so  I  jes'  come  along  to  see 
yer  off,  an'  say  mebbe  I'll  turn  up  in  New  York 
some  day,  an'  I  wanter  know  where  you  live." 

Alex  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile,  for  the 
thought  of  entertaining  in  his  cit)%home  any  one 
who  occupied  so  low  a  position  as  Johnny  had 
never  entered  his  mind.  But  he  put  out  his  hand 
kindly,  and  said, 

"Thank  you,  Johnny;  you're  awful  good  to 
come  down  here  this  morning.  But  how  did  you 
get  away  from  the  Florence?" 

"Oh,  nobody  was  lookin';  so  I  jes'  skipped — 
see?  I  knew  the  way  here  all  right." 


34  ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

"  Well,  well,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin,  "  I 
think  you'd  better  run  back  as  fast  as  you  can. 
Alex  will  write  you  a  letter  as  soon  as  he  reaches 
New  York,  and  tell  you  all  the  nice  things  he  saw 
on  the  way,  if  you  like.  Now  come,  Alex,  the 
train  is  going  to  start." 

So,  taking  his  son  by  the  hand,  Mr.  Goodwin 
found  his  way  to  the  train,  and  after  bidding  his 
mother  a  tender  farewell,  he  and  Alex  soon  dis- 
appeared inside  the  car. 

Alex  did  a  great  deal  of  thinking  on  the  way 
home,  and  when  Mr.  Goodwin  questioned  him, 
answered: 

"  Why,  papa,  I  was  thinking  of  the  same  thing 
I  told  you  about  one  day  at  the  Florence.  Guess 
what  it  is." 

"  Oh,  you  were  thinking  about  going  to  Europe 
with  me,  some  time  next  year,  when  I  have  to  go 
on  business." 

"No;  guess  again,  papa.  I  never  thought  of 
going  to  Europe.  What  made  you  say  that?  " 

"  Well,  you  were  greatly  interested  in  the  little 
pocket-maps  and  souvenirs  I  brought  you,  and 
you  talked  about  them  at  the  hospital." 

"But  it  wasn't  that,  papa;  it  was  something 
better  than  that." 

"Oh,  I  know!  It  was  Jackson  B;  that's  what 
it  was — Jackson  B!  " 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED.  35 

"No,"  said  Alex,  laughing,  and  caressing  his 
father's  hand;  "I  think  about  Jackson  B  all  the 
time.  But  this  was  something  really  extra,  papa, 
that  I  think  of  only  once  in  a  while." 

"  \\^11,  what  was  it?  Now,  come,  tell  me. 
Don't  keep  poor  papa  worrying  over  it  so." 

"No,  sir;  you  must  guess." 

"Oh,  dear  me!  Now,  Allie  boy,  you  are  too 
hard  on  your  poor  old  father.  Well,  it  was  John- 
ny Wells." 

"  There,  that's  better;  only  it  wasn't  all  about 
him.  I  was  thinking  about  a  children's  home, 
and  how  Johnny  would  be  a  good  one  to  have  in 
it.  Don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  Why,  my  son,  don't  you  think  Johnny  is 
happy  blacking  boots  in  Chicago?" 

"  Well,  he  seems  very  proud  of  his  '  biz,'  as  he 
calls  it;  but  papa,  do  you  think  such  a  little  boy 
as  he  ought  to  be  blacking  boots  on  a  street  cor- 
ner, and  never  going  to  school?  You  wouldn't 
let  me  do  it,  would  you,  papa?" 

"  You  do  it?"  said  Mr.  Goodwin,  drawing  the 
child  close  and  pressing  a  kiss  on  his  forehead. 
"  Whatever  put  that  into  your  head?  Don't  you 
know  I  love  you  too  dearly  to  let  you  do  any- 
thing for  years  to  come?  "  And  agam  Mr.  Good- 
win caressed  the  child,  morj  fervently  than  be- 
fore, thinking  how  nearly  he  had  been  to  losing 


36  ALEX   GOODWIN'S   DEED. 

his  little  son,  and  saying,  "Alex,  dearest,  you 
know  you  are  all  I  have  now." 

"Yes,  I  know  it,  papa  dear;  and  because  I  am, 
won't  you  please  let  me  do  one  thing  I  wish  this 
year?  " 

"A  hundred  things  you  wish,  my  son." 

"Well,  papa,  you  told  me  once  that  when  I  got 
to  be  a  big  man,  twenty-one  years  old,  I  should 
have  a  lot  all  my  own  in  New  York.  Now,  if  it's 
to  be  mine  some  day,  I'd  rather  have  it  used  for 
something  good  until  I'm  a  man,  and  then  I  can 
buy  a  lot  of  my  own." 

"My  dear  child,  what  do  you  mean?  "  said  Mr. 
Goodwin. 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  build  a  home  for  boys — like 
Plumfield.  You  know  about  Plumfield  and  Aunt 
Jo  in  '  Little  Men,'  don't  you,  papa?  " 

"Plumfield?  'Little  Men'?  Why,  it  sounds 
familiar.  What  was  it,  my  son?  Was  it  a  hos- 
pital?" 

"  Oh,  no;  it  was  a  jolly  home  for  boys — Aunt 
Jo  was  an  awful  kind  lady,  and  Mr.  Bhaer  a 
funny  German.  He  was  Aunt  Jo's  husband,  and 
they  were  so  kind  to  poor  boys.  I  wish  you 
would  build  a  home  like  that  on  my  lot,  papa. 
Wouldn't  that  be  grand !  Then  poor  Johnny  could 
go  there  and  live,  and  he  could  study  and  never 
black  boots  any  more.  Won't  you  please,  papa?" 


ALEX   GOODWIN'S  DEED.  37 

Now,  if  you  had  asked  Mr.  Goodwin  to  donate 
a  check  of  a  thousand  dollars  to  the  church,  he 
wouldn't  have  been  at  all  surprised.  But  to  have 
such  a  plan  as  this  thrust  upon  him — and  that 
by  a  mere  child — it  almost  took  his  breath  away. 

But  all  this  time  the  train  was  whizzing  along, 
and  almost  before  they  knew  it,  they  were  in 
New  York. 


It  was  only  three  days  after  this  that  little 
Johnny  Wells  received  a  letter  from  Alex,  and 
as  it  was  rather  a  newsy  one,  I  will  give  you  a 
copy  of  it  here  : 

NEW  YORK  CITY,  Sept.  11,  189-. 

DEAR  JOHNNY  : — Jackson  B  was  very  glad  to  see  me 
when  I  got  home.  He  rubed  his  nose  on  my  cote-sleeve, 
and  made  a  grate  fuss  when  I  left  him.  Our  house  is 
getting  fixed  up  inside,  so  I  can't  go  in  my  room,  but 
have  to  rite  hear  In  papa's  studdy.  New  York  is  fine.  I 
go  to  ride  in  the  Park.  How  are  all  the  children  in  Ma- 
plewud?  Do  you  playgames  enny  more?  My  papa  is 
going  to  bild  a  home  for  children.  Hoppeing  to  here 
from  you  soon,  Your  friend, 

ALEX  GOODWIN. 

When  Miss  Alden  handed  the  letter  to  Johnny 
she  suspected  it  was  from  Alex,  and  she  also  felt 
that  she  would  have  to  read  it  to  Johnny,  as  he 
knew  nothing  of  reading  and  writing.  But  as 
soon  as  it  became  a  part  of  that  young  man's 


.'507669 


38  ALEX  GOODWIN'S  DEED. 

possessions,  he  betook  himself  to  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  garden,  and  puzzled  over  it  for  half 
an  hour  in  vain.  Finally,  his  brain  whirling 
with  big  letters,  little  letters,  commas  and  pe- 
riods, he  swallowed  his  pride  and  marched  into 
the  house  to  find  some  one  who  would  rtad  it  to 
him.  Miss  Alden  obliged  him,  and  was  herself 
pleased  to  know  that  Alex  and  his  father  reached 
home  in  safety. 

So  the  days  and  weeks  rolled  on,  but  Johnny 
did  not  return  to  his  "  biz."  The  lady  who  had 
taken  an  interest  in  him,  and  was  at  that  time 
paying  for  him,  had  discovered  that  Johnny  was 
too  bright  a  boy  to  be  deprived  of  an  education, 
and  she  quickly  determined  that  he  should  be 
placed  in  some  good  home,  where  he  could  have 
a  schooling.  It  was  just  at  this  time  that  Alex's 
letter  arrived;  and,  as  the  lady  had  spoken  to 
Johnny  often  of  her  intentions  regardimg  him, 
he  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh,  I  know  the  game!  That  kid  yer  uster 
see  here — well,  he  went  to  New  York,  and  he 
says  his  dad's  goin'  ter  make  er  home  for  boys 
an'  girls.  Why  can't  I  go  there  an'  learn?  That'd 
be  great! " 


ALEX  GOODWIN'S   DEED.  39 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

IT  is  a  sunny  day  in  early  June.  A  large  com- 
pany of  people  is  assembled  under  the  friend- 
ly shade  of  trees  scattered  over  a  gentle  slope  of 
land.  A  band  of  musicians  is  discoursing  popu- 
lar airs,  the  music  being  caught  up  by  the  breeze 
and  carried  away  over  hill  and  dale,  only  to 
echo  back  the  sweet  notes  of  the  strains.  Every- 
body seems  happy.  Some  are  chatting  gayly 
together,  some  are  sipping  lemonade  at  little 
tables  scattered  about  on  the  grass,  while  still 
others  are  pondering  over  a  set  of  maps  and 
drawings  laid  upon  a  table  near  the  band-stand. 
There  are  loads  of  bricks,  and  much  granite,  mor- 
tar, etc.,  scattered  about.  The  foundation  for  a 
large  building  is  almost  completed,  and  above 
part  of  it  a  platform  has  been  erected.  There 
have  been  several  short  speeches,  one  or  two 
songs,  and  now  the  gentlemen  on  the  platform 
are  hurriedly  talking  together,  while  one  of  them 
takes  a  small  boy  by  the  hand  and  leads  him 
forward.  At  this  a  cheer  goes  up  from  the  crowd, 
and  the  people  move  nearer  the  platform.  Fore- 
most in  the  crowd,  we  notice  the  smiling  face  of 
Grandma  Goodwin.  Sister  Kate  is  here,  also. 


40  ALEX     GOODWIN'S    DEED. 

And,  bless  my  eyes!  if  there  isn't  Johnny 
Wells! 

The  little  boy  on  the  platform  now  steps  for- 
ward and  bows.  We  hear  the  ladies  whisper, 
" Doesn't  he  look  sweet  in  that  velvet  suit?"  It 
is  Alex, —  and  this  is  what  he  says: 

"  Dear  friends,  we  are  so  glad  to  see  you  here 
to-day.  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  coming 
way  out  here  to-day,  and  I  hope  you  all  like  the 
plans  of  this  building.  I  am  so  happy  because 
papa  is  building  it  on  my  land,  as  I  asked  him 
to  do  it  a  long  time  ago.  Please  tell  people  what 
this  building  is  for,  and  when  you  hear  of  any 
little  boy  or  girl  who  has  no  place  to  live,  just 
send  them  here  to  the  Goodwin  Home." 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 
THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


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DATE  OF  RECEIPT 


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DUE  TWO  WEEKS 
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P98a Alex  Goodw 

deed. 


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